Book Reviews and postings to help Indie authors get exposure! Paranomal romance, romance and erotica

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Wednesday, May 6, 2015

BLOG TOUR & MY REVIEW: The Art of Sin by Alexandrea Weis

Grady Paulson spends his nights pleasing a lot of women.

The bump and grind of being a male stripper is getting old for Grady, and when his cross-country tour takes him to New Orleans everything changes. He meets Allison Wagner; a smart, successful woman who is all wrong for him, but Grady just loves a challenge.

Sparks fly, and soon Allison has Grady rethinking his future. He wants to get out of the stripping game and settle down, but Allison is hiding a devastating secret that could threaten his plans.

Will Grady finally break free from his seedy, sequined world or will her troubled past forever seal their fate?
On Bourbon Street, temptation is the name of the game for all those who practice the art of sin.

I like the writing style of Alexandrea Weis. I enjoy her
story telling. Her storyline in this book is something I haven’t seen before,
the freshness makes it fun.

I like the background city of New Orleans it seems like a
place I would want to visit. I think that the switch in roles in the story is
intriguing. Here we have a male stripper and successful female.

I thought the way Alexandrea showed the embarrassment of the
strippers in a different light by having it be the male perspective was
fantastic. I look forward to reading more by Ms Weis.

I was gifted this book in exchange for an honest review.

The screaming hit him first. Like the backwash from a jet
engine, the screams vibrated against his body. The women were packed against
the edge of the stage, and as he moved out from beneath the white lights, he
got a better look at the pit.

Matt had been right. The faces, the screams, the whistles,
all looked and sounded the same as every other town he had been in. He had
hoped this time it would be different. Why had he expected more?

Beginning his routine, he rolled his hips and occasionally
made eye contact with a few of the women, searching for his orgasm girl. A
small blonde, not far from the stage, caught his eye. She instantly reminded
him of Al. She had the same petite figure and pink lips, but her eyes were not
as sarcastic. Making a few spins, he checked out the other women, but kept
coming back to the blonde.

When he pulled his silver-sequined shirt open, the motion
made the pain from his broken right pinkie shoot up his arm. He kept his stage
smile plastered on his face, but he could feel the sweat gathering on his upper
lip. To stop thinking about the pain, he shifted his attention back to the
small blonde. He pictured her being Al, watching him up on stage. Grady could
almost see Al smirking at him from a table next to the stage. This was good. It
was helping him get through his routine. He focused on the blonde, all the
while thinking of Al, and soon he forgot about his discomfort.

Grady began to feel he was dancing only for the petite
woman. He could hear the other women in the crowd shouting for him to “take it
all off,” but he ignored them. He struggled getting his shirt off, and he saw
the lithe blonde smile when she explored his chest with her big eyes.

Grabbing at his clothing and doing a few of the acrobatic
moves he had in his dance routine almost made him see stars as the tormenting
pain returned. With only his pants to go, he went to the edge of the stage,
ready to bring up the blonde. When he pointed to her, as he seductively swung
his hips, the blush on her cheeks almost made him laugh out loud. Al would
never have blushed like that. No, Al would have scowled at him.

It took two of her friends to coax her to the stage, but
when the little blonde climbed the side steps, Grady was disappointed. Up
close, she was nothing like Al. Her features were plain and her mouth was
bigger, her lips thicker, and her eyes were brown and not like Al’s angry grey
orbs. Giving her some encouragement to have fun with him, he lifted her hands
to his chest and rubbed his hips against her.

The blonde squealed, covered her face, and did all the
predictable things he expected of his orgasm girl. After he had danced around
her a few times, ripped off his pants—damn near cursing as the pain tore
through his hand—he gave her a kiss on the cheek and showed her off the stage.

A few last struts, flashing his silver-sequined G-string,
and he was done. Snapping up his clothes from the floor with his left hand, he
could feel the sweat pouring off him. He quickly trotted off the stage and back
behind the curtains.

Out of the view of the audience, he bent over and very
gently held his sore pinkie.

“Son of a bitch,” he sighed. How was he going to survive a
second show?

Alexandrea Weis is an advanced practice registered nurse who was born and raised in New Orleans. Having been brought up in the motion picture industry, she learned to tell stories from a different perspective and began writing at the age of eight. Infusing the rich tapestry of her hometown into her award-winning novels, she believes that creating vivid characters makes a story moving and memorable. A permitted/certified wildlife rehabber with the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries, Weis rescues orphaned and injured wildlife. She lives with her husband and pets in New Orleans.